














' I 

f'' 








































































































































. 
























































































































•* 






’* 












































* 








. 







































































































































































































































































































































Ube little flban 
tn ^footle? 


Works of 

ANNIE FE LLOWS JOHNSTON 

The Little Colonel Series 

( Trade Mark, Reg. U. 8. Pat. Of.) 

Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated 
The Little Colonel Stories ..... $1.50 

(Containing in one volume the three stories, 

“The Little Colonel,” “The Giant Scissors,” 
and “ Two Little Knights of Kentucky.”) 

The Little Colonel’s House Party .... 1.50 

The Little Colonel’s Holidays ..... 1.50 

The Little Colonel’s Hero . . . . . . 1.50 

The Little Colonel at Boarding-School . . . 1.50 

The Little Colonel in Arizona ..... 1.50 

The Little Colonel’s Christmas Vacation . . . 1.50 

The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor .... 1.50 

The Little Colonel’s Knight Comes Riding . 1.50 

The Little Colonel’s Chum: Mary Ware . . . 1.50 

Mary Ware in Texas ....... 1.50 

Mary Ware’s Promised Land . . . . . 1.50 

The above 12 vols., boxed, as a set .... 18.00 


The Little Colonel Good Times Book . . . . 1.50 

The Little Colonel Doll Book — First Series . . 1.50 

The Little Colonel Doll Book — Second Series . . 1.50 

Illustrated Holiday Editions 

Each one vol., small quarto, cloth, illustrated, and printed 

in color 

The Little Colonel ....... $1.35 

The Giant Scissors ....... 1.35 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky .... 1.35 

Big Brother 1.35 

Cosy Corner Series 

Each one vol., thin 12mo, cloth, illustrated 
The Little Colonel ....... $.60 

The Giant Scissors ....... .60 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky .... .60 

Big Brother ........ .60 

Ole Mammy’s Torment ...... .60 

The Story of Dago .60 

Cicely .60 

Aunt ’Liza’s Hero .60 

The Quilt that Jack Built .60 

Flip’s “ Islands of Providence ” .... .60 

Mildred’s Inheritance .60 

The Little Man in Motley ..... .60 

Other Books 

J oel: A Boy of Galilee $1.50 

n the Desert of Waiting ...... .60 

The Three Weavers ....... .60 

Keeping Tryst .60 

The Legend of the Bleeding Heart .... .60 

The Rescue of the Princess Winsome ... .60 

The Jester’s Sword .60 

Asa Holmes . . . . . . . 1.25 

Travelers Five Along Life’s Highway . . . 1.25 


THE PAGE COMPANY 
53 Beacon Street Boston, Mass. 



























































































“he leaned over and took off his grotesque cap yT 

(See page 32) 



She (Eng|t (Corner g’crtfg 

THE LITTLE MAN 
IN MOTLEY 


BY 

ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

n 

Author of “The Little Colonel Series,” “Asa Holmes," 
“Joel: A Boy of Galilee,” etc. 


Illustrated by 
EMILY B. WAITE 




E XT i— 

mm 




wSm 


BOSTON 

THE PAGE COMPANY 
MDCCCCXVIII 




Copyright, 1899, by 
The S. S. McClure Co. 


Copyright, 1911, by 
L. C. Page & Company 
(Incorporated) 


Copyright, 1918, by 
The Page Company 


All rights reserved 


First Impression, September, 1918 



THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. 


0C1 18 Ibio 


© Cl. A 5 0 6 2 2 0 


[ 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“He leaned over and took off his 
GROTESQUE cap.” (See page 32) 

Frontispiece ^ 

“ ‘ They stood lookin’ at each other ’ ” n v 
“ She and little William were left 

ENTIRELY ALONE .... 21 

“ He bowed low over the little hand ” 36 



























































































































































































































































































« 



















































■ • 




























Zhe %ittl e flftan 
ITn flfcotle^ 

T HE little man in motley, thrust- 
ing his face through the curtains 
of the big circus tent, looked out 
on the gathering crowds and grinned. To 
him that assemblage of gaping back- 
woods pioneers was a greater show than 
the one he was travelling with, although 
the circus itself was a pioneer in its way. 
It was the first that had ever travelled 
through the almost unbroken forests of 
southern Indiana, and the fame of its per- 
formance at Vincennes had spread to the 
Ohio long before the plodding oxen had 
drawn the heavy lion cages half that dis- 
tance. Such wild rumours of it had 
found their way across the sparsely set- 
tled hills and hollows, that families who 


2 Zb e little fIDan Tin fiftotleig 

had not been out of sight of their cabin 
chimneys in five years or more were 
drawn irresistibly circusward. 

Standing on a barrel, behind a hole in 
the canvas of the tent, the little clown 
amused himself by watching the stream 
of arrivals. As far as he could see, down 
the glaringly sunny road, rising clouds of 
dust betokened the approach of a seem- 
ingly endless procession. The whole 
county appeared to be flocking to the 
commons just outside of Burnville, where 
the annual training in military tactics 
took place on “ muster days.” People 
were coming by the wagon-load; nearly 
every horse carried double, and one old 
nag ambled up with a row of boys astride 
her patient back from neck to tail. 

It was a hot afternoon in August, and 
a rank, almost overpowering odour of 
dog-fennel rose from the dusty weeds 
trampled down around the tent. The lit- 


ZEbe little flftan Tin flDotle^ 3 


tie clown was half stifled by the dust, the 
heat, and the smell, and the perspiration 
trickled down his grotesquely painted 
face; but an occasional impatient flap- 
ping of his handkerchief to clear away 
the dust of a new arrival was all that be- 
trayed his discomfort. He was absorbed 
in the conversation of a little group who, 
seated on a log directly under his peep- 
hole in the canvas, were patiently waiting 
for the performance to begin. 

“ My motley can’t hold a candle to 
theirs,” he thought, with an amused 
chuckle, as he surveyed them critically. 
“ Judging by the cut of that girl’s old 
silk dress, it was a part of her grand- 
mother’s wedding finery, and she prob- 
ably spun the stuff for that sunbonnet her- 
self. But the man — Moses in the bul- 
rushes! People back East wouldn’t be- 
lieve me if I told them how he is togged 
out: tow trousers, broadcloth coat with 


4 £be Xtttle flPan Tin flDotle^g 


brass buttons, bare feet, and a coonskin 
cap, on this the hottest of all the hot dog- 
days ever created! ” 

He wiped his face again after this in- 
ventory, and steadied himself on the bar- 
rel. All unconscious of the audience they 
were entertaining, the man and girl were 
retailing the neighbourhood news to a 
tired-looking little woman, who sat on 
the log beside them, with a heavy baby in 
her arms. Their broad Western speech 
was as unfamiliar as it was amusing to 
their unseen listener. The barrel shook 
with his suppressed laughter, as they re- 
peated the rumours they had heard re- 
garding the circus. 

“Thar was six oxen to draw the lion 
cages,” said the girl, fanning herself with 
her sunbonnet. “ Sam said them beasts 
roared to beat the Dutch — two of ’em. 
And he says thar’s a pock-marked Irish- 
man as goes around between acts with a 


%be Xittle fll>an Art flDotle^ 5 


nine-banded armadillo. Ef ye tech it, 
ye’ll never have the toothache no more. 
But thar’s suthin better nor him. Sam 
says he ’lows we’ll jest all die a-laughin’ 
when we see the clown. The whole end 
of the State has gone wild over that air 
clown. Sam says they make more fuss 
over him than they would over the Presi- 
dent ef he was t’ come to this neck o’ 
woods.” 

Here the auditor behind the scenes, 
with his hand on his heart, made such a 
low bow that he lost his balance, and 
nearly upset the barrel. 

“ I reckon the elyfunt will be the big- 
gest sight,” drawled the man. “ That’s 
what drawed me here. I ain’t never seen 
even the picter of an elyfunt, and they 
say this is the real live article from t’other 
side of the world. They say it kin eat a 
cock of hay six foot high at one meal.” 

Here the baby stirred and fretted in the 


6 Gbc Xtttle fIDan II n flDotle^ 


woman’s arms, and she wearily lifted it 
to an easier position against her shoulder. 

“ I wish Jim would hurry up,” she 
sighed, wiping her hot face on a corner 
of her homespun apron. 

“ He’s over yander helpin’ ole Mis’ 
Potter put up her ginger-bread stand,” 
answered the girl, pointing to a large oak- 
tree on the edge of the common. “ I seen 
’em when she first come a-drivin’ up on 
that big ox-sled, with a barrel of cider 
behind her. Law, I reckon she hain’t 
never missed bein’ on hand to sell her 
cakes and cider here on muster-days nary 
a time in ten years.” 

“ ’Tain’t Mis’ Potter,” answered the 
older woman. “ She’s ben laid up with 
rheumatiz nearly all summer. It’s Boone 
Ratcliffe’s mother and his little Will- 
iam.” 

“You don’t mean it!” exclaimed the 
girl, with eager interest, standing up to 


ftbe Xtttle flftan Un flDotle^ 7 

get a better view. “ Not ole 4 Madam 
Ratcliffe,’ as pap calls her! I’ve ben 
honin’ for a sight of her ever sence last 
spring, when I heerd she’d come out from 
Maryland. I used to hear about her 
afore Boone married M’randy. It was 
M’randy as told me about her. She said 
the ole lady was so rich and so stuck up 
that she never even tied her own shoes. 
They had slaves and land and money and 
everything that heart could wish, and 
they didn’t think that M’randy was good 
enough for their only son. The letters 
they writ to Boone trying to head him off 
made M’randy so mad that I didn’t sup- 
pose she’d ever git over it.” 

“ She didn’t,” answered the little 
woman, “ and it was scant welcome they 
got when they come. The letter they 
sent a month aforehand never got here, 
so of course nobody knowed they was 
a-comin’, and they wa’n’t nobody down 


8 ffbe little flPan Tin flftotle^ 

to the Ohio River landin’ to meet ’em. 
My Jim he happened to be thar when 
they got off’n the flatboat. They was 
dreadful put out when they didn’t find 
Boone watchin’ out for ’em, after cornin’ 
all the way from Maryland. Goodness 
knows what ’ud become of ’em ef Jim 
hadn’t happened acrost ’em. The boat 
had gone on down the river and left ’em 
settin’ thar on shore amongst the bales 
and boxes, as helpless as two kittens. Jim 
he seen ’em a-settin’ thar, and bein’ a soft- 
hearted chap and knowin’ suthin’ was 
wrong, he up and spoke. 

“ They was so bewildered like, ’count 
of not finding Boone and everything bein’ 
so dif’runt from what they lotted on, that 
they was well-nigh daft. The ole man 
had ben sick ever sence they left Pitts- 
burg, and they was both plum tuckered 
out with that long flatboat trip. Jim he 
jest h’isted ’em into the wagon, big chest 


gbe little (TPan Hn flftotle^ 9 

and all, and brought ’em on to Burn- 
ville. 

“ He said ’twas plain to be seen they 
hadn’t never been used to roughin’ it in 
any way. The ole gentleman was so sick 
he had to lean his head on her shoulder 
all the way, and she kep’ a-strokin’ his 
white hair with her fine soft fingers, and 
talkin’ to him as if he’d ben a child. She 
tried to chirk him up by tellin’ him they’d 
soon be to Boone’s home, and talkin’ 
’bout when Boone was a little feller, tell 
Jim couldn’t hardly stand it, he’s that 
soft-hearted. 

“ He knew all the time what a disap- 
p’intment was in store when they should 
set eyes on M’randy and the cabin, and 
find Boone growed to be so rough and 
common. It was dark when they got 
thar. Boone hadn’t got home yit, and 
thar wa’n’t a sign of a light about the 
place. So Jim lef’ the ole folks setting 


io Zbe Xittle fH> an Hn fIDotle? 


in the wagon, and went in to break the 
news to M’randy, knowin’ what a high- 
tempered piece she is at times. He said 
she was settin’ on the doorstep in her bare 
feet and dirty ole linsey-woolsey dress, 
jawin’ little William. She’d ben 
a-makin’ soap all day, and was dead tired. 

“When Jim tole her what ’twas, the 
surprise seemed to strike her all of a 
heap. She never made a move to git up, 
and as soon as she could git her breath 
she begun to splutter like blue blazes. 
She said some folks had more burdens 
laid onto their shoulders than by rights 
was their share, and she couldn’t see what 
made them ole people come trackin’ out 
where they was neither wanted nor ex- 
pected. She hadn’t no airthly use for that 
stuck-up ole Mis’ Ratcliffe, if she was 
Boone’s mother. Oh, she jest talked up 
scan’lous. 

“Jim he was afraid they would hear 



“ ‘ THEY STOOD LOOKIN’ AT EACH OTHER ’ ” 































ftbe little fll>an Tin flDotle^ n 


her clear out in the road, so he kep’ tryin’ 
to smooth her down, and then he went out 
and tried to smooth things over to the ole 
people. By the time they’d climbed out’n 
the wagon and walked up the path, Will- 
iam had lit a candle, and she was holdin’ 
it over her head in the doorway. The 
way Jim tole it I could jest see how they 
stood lookin’ at each other, like as they 
was takin’ their measures. Jim said they 
both seemed to see the difference, 
M’randy so frowsy and common-lookin’, 
for all her prettiness, and the ole lady so 
fine and aristocratic in her elegant dress 
and bunnit. He said he’d never fergit 
how white and tired-lookin’ their old 
faces showed up in the candle-light, and 
sort of disapp’inted, too, over the wel- 
come they’d ben expectin’ and didn’t git. 

“ M’randy didn’t even offer to shake 
hands. After she’d stared a minute she 
said, sorter stiff-like, ‘ Well, I s’pose you 


12 Zbe Xtttle flDan II n flfcotle? 


may as well come on in.’ Jim says there 
was tears in the ole lady’s eyes when she 
follered M’randy into the cabin, but she 
wiped ’em away real quick, and spoke up 
cheerful to ole Mr. Ratcliff e. 

“ The room was in such a muss there 
wa’n’t an empty chair to set on tell 
M’randy jerked the things off two of’m 
and kicked the stuff out of sight under 
the bed. Then she dusted ’em with her 
apron, and said in a long-sufferin’ sort of 
tone that she reckoned ’twas about as 
cheap settin’ as standin’. 

“ Ole Mis’ Ratcliffe tried to apologize 
fer cornin’. She said that their daughter 
back in Maryland tried to keep ’em from 
it, but that Boone couldn’t come to them, 
and it had been ten years since he had left ^ 
home, and they felt they must see him 3 
once more before they died. Jim said 
it was so pitiful the way she talked that 
he got all worked up.” 


Gbe Xtttle flDan Hn fH>otle\> 13 


“ Why didn’t they turn right around 
and go home the next day? ” cried the 
girl, with flashing eyes. “ That’s 
M’randy all over again when she once 
gits her temper up, but people as rich as 
them don’t have to put up with nobody’s 
high and mighty ways.” 

“ They are not rich any more,” was the 
answer. “ A few years ago they lost all 
they had, slaves, land, and everything, 
and their married daughter in Baltimore 
is takin’ care of ’em. She was sure they 
wouldn’t find it agreeable out here, so 
she provided the money for ’em to come 
back on; but the ole man lost his wallet 
cornin’ down on that flatboat, and they 
don’t feel as they could write back and 
ask her for more. She’s good to ’em as 
can be, but she hasn’t got any more than 
she needs, and they hate to ask for it. 
That’s why the ole lady is here to-day, 
takin’ Mis’ Potter’s place. Boone per- 


14 Zb e little flftan lln flDotle^ 


suaded her to come, and tole her if she 
could make as much as Mis’ Potter al- 
ways does, it will be enough to pay their 
way back to Maryland. He helped her 
get ready. I don’t know what he said to 
M’randy to make her stand aside and not 
interfere, but she made up the ginger- 
bread as meek as Moses, and let Jim roll 
the barrel of cider out of the smoke-house 
without a word.” 

“ Why don’t Boone scratch around and 
raise the money somehow? ” put in the 
man, who had chewed in interested si- 
lence as he listened to the story. Now 
he stopped to bite another mouthful from 
a big twist of tobacco he took from his 
broadcloth coat pocket. 

“ ’Pears like their only son is the one 
that ought to do fer ’em, and at least he 
could make M’randy shut up and treat 
his parents civil.” 

“ Boone! ” sniffed the woman. “ Why, 


gbe little flDan Tin flftotleig is 

he’s under M’randy’s thumb so tight that 
he dassent sneeze if she don’t take snuff. 
Besides, he’s ben on the flat of his back 
off and on all summer, with dumb ague. 
It’s run into a slow fever now, and it takes 
every picayune they can scrape together 
to git his medicines. Then, too, M’randy 
sprained her ankle a month or so back, 
and things have been awful sence then. 
The ole man he don’t realize he is in the 
way, he’s so childish and broken down. 
He jest sorter droops around, pinin’ for 
the comforts he’s always ben used to, in a 
way that almost breaks his ole wife’s 
heart. She feels it keen enough for both 
of ’em, because she can’t bear to see him 
lackin’ anything he needs, and she’d 
rather die than be a burden to any- 
body. 

“ I tell Jim I’m sorry for the whole set, 
and I can see it isn’t the pleasantest thing 
for M’randy to give up a room to them 


16 %be Xtttle flftan ffln flftotle^ 

when thar’s only two in the cabin, and 
her ways ain’t their ways, and their bein’ 
thar puts everything out of joint ; but J im 
he sides with the ole people. He’s mighty 
sorry for ’em, and would have put his 
hand in his own pocket and paid their 
expenses long ago back to Maryland, ef 
he’d a-ben able. He’s ben a great com- 
fort to the ole lady, he’s jest that soft- 
hearted. I hope she’ll sell out as fast as 
Mis’ Potter always done.” 

Before the girl could echo her wish, 
there was a discordant scraping inside the 
tent, a sound of the band beginning to 
tune their instruments. Instantly there 
was a rush toward the tent, and all three 
of the little group sprang to their feet. 
The little woman looked wildly around 
for Jim, with such an anxious expression 
that the clown lingered a moment, re- 
gardless of the stream of people pouring 
into the entrance so near him that the cur- 


Zb e Xittle flftatt Tin ffcotle^ 17 

tain which screened him from public 
view was nearly torn down. He waited 
until he saw a burly, good-natured man 
push his way through the crowds and 
transfer the heavy baby from the woman’s 
tired arms to his broad shoulder. Then 
he turned away with a queer little smile 
on his painted face. 

“ He’s jest that soft-hearted,” he re- 
peated, half under his breath. The 
woman’s story had stirred him strangely. 
“ It’s a pity there’s not more like him,” 
he continued. “ I guess that too few Jims 
and too many M’randys is what is the 
matter with this dizzy old planet.” 

“ What’s that ye’re grumbling about, 
Humpty Dumpty? ” asked the pock- 
marked Irishman as he came up with his 
nine-banded armadillo, all ready for the 
performance. Then in his most profes- 
sional tones: “If it is the toothache yez 
have now. I’ll be afther curing it en- 


is ftbe little flftan Tin flftotleig 

toirely wid wan touch of this baste 
from ” 

“Oh, get out!” exclaimed the clown, 
putting his hand on the tall Irishman’s 
shoulder and springing lightly down 
from the barrel. “ I’m dead sick of all 
this monkey business. If it wasn’t a mat- 
ter of bread-and-butter I wouldn’t laugh 
again in a year.” 

“Ye couldn’t make anybody out there 
in that big aujence belave it,” laughed 
the Irishman. “ They think yer life is 
wan perpetooal joke; that ye’re a joke 
yerself for that matther, a two-legged 
wan, done up in cap and bells.” 

“ You’re right,” said the clown bitterly, 
looking askance at his striped legs. “ But 
4 a man’s a man for a ’ that and a’ that,’ 
and he gets tired sometimes of always 
being taken for a jesting fool. Curse this 
livery! ” 

The Irishman looked at him shrewdly. 


ZTbe Xtttle HDan Hn flftotle^ 19 

“ Ye should have gone in for a ’varsity 
cap and gown, and Oi’ve been thinking 
that maybe ye did start out that way.” 

A dull red glowed under the paint on 
the clown’s face, and he ran into the ring 
in response to the signal without a reply. 
A thundering round of applause greeted 
him, which broke out again as he glanced 
all around with a purposely silly leer. 
Then he caught sight of Jim’s honest 
face, smiling expectantly on him from 
one of the front benches. It struck him 
like a pain that this man could not look 
through his disguise of tawdry circus 
trappings, and see that a man’s heart was 
beating under the clown’s motley. There 
came a sudden fierce longing to tear off 
his outward character of mountebank, 
for a moment, and show Jim the stifled 
nature underneath, noble enough to rec- 
ognize the tender chivalry hidden in the 
rough exterior of the awkward back- 


20 %bc Xittle fIDan Hn fSOotie^ 

woodsman, and to be claimed by him as 
a kindred spirit. 

As he laughed and danced and sang, 
no one dreamed that his thoughts kept 
reverting to scenes that the woman’s story 
had called up, or that a plan was slowly 
shaping in his mind whereby he might 
serve the homesick old soul waiting out 
under the oak-tree for the performance 
to be done. 

No wonder that people accustomed to 
seeing old Mrs. Potter in that place, 
gowned in homespun, and knitting a 
coarse yarn sock, had stopped to stare at 
the newcomer. Such a type of high-born, 
perfect ladyhood had never appeared in 
their midst before. The dress that she 
wore was a relic of the old Maryland 
days; so was the lace cap that rested like 
a bit of rare frost-work on her silvery 
hair. Mrs. Potter knew everybody for 
miles around, and was ready to laugh and 



a 


5) 


SHE AND LITTLE WILLIAM WERE LEFT ENTIRELY ALONE 
































■ 































































Zhe Xittle flftan Hn flftotIe\> 21 

joke with any one who stopped at her 
stand. Mrs. Ratcliffe sat in dignified si- 
lence, a faint colour deepening in her 
cheeks like the blush of a winter rose. It 
was so much worse than she had antici- 
pated to have these rude strangers staring 
at her, as if she were a part of the show. 
She breathed a sigh of relief when the 
music began, for it drew the crowds into 
the tent as if by magic. She and little 
William were left entirely alone. 

With the strident boom of the bass viol 
came the rank smell of the dog-fennel 
that hurrying feet had left bruised and 
wilting in the sun. All the rest of her 
life, that warm, weedy odour always 
brought back that humiliating experience 
like a keen pain. The horses in the sur- 
rounding grove stamped restlessly and 
whinnied as they switched off the flies. 
The long ride and the unaccustomed la- 
bour of the morning had exhausted her. 


22 Zh e Xittle flftan Tin flDotleig 

She began to nod in her chair, giving 
herself up to a sense of drowsiness, for as 
long as the people were in the tent she 
would have no occupation. 

Her white head dropped lower and 
lower, until presently she was oblivious to 
all surroundings. Little William, sitting 
on the old wood-sled with his back 
against the cider barrel, was forgotten. 
M’randy and the ill-kept cabin vanished 
entirely from her memory. She was back 
in the old Maryland days on her father’s 
plantation, hedged about with loving 
forethought, as tenderly sheltered as some 
delicate white flower. Every path had 
been made smooth for her, every wish an- 
ticipated all her life long, until that day 
when they had set their faces westward 
to find Boone. It was coming down the 
Ohio on that long journey by flatboat that 
she suddenly woke to the knowledge that 
her husband’s illness had left him a 


Zfoe Xtttle flftan lin flDotle^g 23 


broken-down old man, as weak and irre- 
sponsible as a child. 

But mercifully her dreams were back 
of that time. They were back with Boone 
in his gay young boyhood, when he 
danced minuets with the Governor’s 
daughter, and entertained his college 
friends in lordly style on the old planta- 
tion. Back of that time when the rest- 
lessness of his ’teens sent him roving over 
the Alleghanies to the frontier, regardless 
of their long-cherished ambitions for him. 
Back of the time when in a sudden mad 
whim he had married a settler’s pretty 
daughter, whom he was ashamed to take 
back to civilization when he thought of 
the Baltimore belles to whom he had paid 
boyish court. He had not stopped to con- 
sider her rough speech and uncouth man- 
ners. He had been a long time out in the 
wilderness, he was only twenty, and her 
full red lips tempted him. 


£4 %be Xittle flftan Tin flftotleig 

If the dreams could only have stopped 
then, that little space she slept, while the 
circus band thrummed and drummed in- 
side the tent, and the shadows of the hot 
August afternoon lengthened under the 
still trees outside, would have been a 
blessed respite. But they repeated the 
unpleasant parts as well. They came on 
down to the night of that unwelcome ar- 
rival. They showed her the days when 
Boone lay prostrated with a slow mala- 
rial fever; the days when the fierce heat 
made him drag his pallet desperately 
from one corner to another across the 
bare puncheons, trying to find a spot 
where he could be comfortable. She 
could see him lying as he had so often 
lain, with his face turned toward the back 
door, looking out with aching eyes on the 
tall corn that filled the little clearing. In 
his feverish wanderings he complained 
that it was crowding up around the house 


Gbe Xtttle flftan Tin flftotle^ 25 

trying to choke him. And there was little 
William, little nine-year-old William, 
sitting on the floor beside him, attempt- 
ing to flap away the flies with a bunch of 
walnut leaves. There were long intervals 
sometimes when the heat overpowered 
the child with drowsiness. Then the wal- 
nut branch wavered uncertainly or 
stopped in mid-air, while he leaned 
against the table leg with closed eyes and 
open mouth. Sometimes Miranda slept 
on the door-step, bare-footed, as usual, 
with a dirty bandage around her sprained 
ankle. 

In that short sleep she seemed to relive 
the whole summer, that had dragged on 
until her sense of dependence grew to be 
intolerable. Miranda’s shrill complain- 
ing came penetrating again into the tiny 
room where she sat by her husband’s bed, 
and the old head was bowed once more 
on his pillow as she sobbed: “ Oh, Will- 


26 Zhe %\tt\c flftan Art flftotleig 

iam, dear heart, if the Lord would only 
take us away together! I cannot bear to 
be a burden to any one!” It was the 
sound of her own sobbing that awakened 
her, and she sat up with a sudden start, 
realizing that she had been asleep. She 
must have slept a long time. In that in- 
terval of unconsciousness the tavern- 
keeper from Burnville had erected a rival 
stand a few rods away. 

She saw with dismay his attractive dis- 
play of “ store ” goods. Then her face 
flushed as he began to set out whisky bot- 
tles and glasses. Her first impulse was 
to gather up her belongings and get home 
as quickly as possible. In her perplexity 
she looked around for little William. 
Regarding a circus with such contempt 
herself, it had never occurred to her that 
he would care to see it. 

He was a timid little fellow, who al- 
ways hid when company came to the 


Zhc Xtttle fiftan Hn flDotleig m 


house, and he had never been away from 
home more than a dozen times in his life. 
The crowds frightened him, and he 
stayed as closely as a shadow at his grand- 
mother’s elbow until the music began. 
Then he forgot himself. It thrilled him 
indescribably, and he watched with long- 
ing eyes as the people crowded into the 
tent. It seemed to him that he must cer- 
tainly go wild if he could not follow, but 
they had sold nothing. Even if they had, 
he would not have dared to ask for 
enough money to pay his admission, it 
seemed such an enormous sum. As she 
began to nod in her chair he began to 
edge nearer the tent. He could catch now 
and then a word of the clown’s jokes, and 
hear the roars of laughter that followed. 
When the clown began to sing, William 
had one ear pressed against the tent. 
People clapped and cheered uproari- 
ously at the last line of every stanza. He 


28 Zhe Xtttle flftan Hn flDotle^g 

could not hear enough of the words to 
understand why. In the general commo- 
tion he was conscious of only one thing: 
he was on the outside of that tent, and he 
must get inside or die. 

Regardless of consequences, he threw 
himself on the grass and wriggled around 
until he succeeded in squeezing himself 
under the canvas. There was a moment 
of dizzy bewilderment as he sat up and 
looked around. Then some cold, squirm- 
ing thing touched the back of his neck. 
He gave a smothered cry of terror; it 
was the elephant’s trunk. He had come 
up directly under the animal “ from 
t’other side of the world, that could eat 
a six-foot cock of hay at one meal.” 

As he sat there, shivering and blubber- 
ing, afraid to move because he did not 
know which end of the clumsy monster 
was head and which tail, he heard a loud 
guffaw. The pock-marked Irishman 


ffbe Xtttle flftan Hn flftotteig 29 

who had charge of the nine-banded arma- 
dillo had seen the little side-show, and it 
doubled him up with laughter. He 
roared and slapped his thigh and laughed 
again until he was out of breath. Then 
he gravely wiped his eyes and drew the 
boy out from under the great animal. 
William clung to him, sobbing. Then 
the warm-hearted fellow, seeing that he 
was really terrified, took him around and 
showed him all the sights. In the delight 
of that hour, home, grandmother, and the 
world outside were completely forgotten. 

Meanwhile, Mrs. Ratcliffe sat wonder- 
ing what had become of the boy. People 
began to straggle out of the tent. There 
was to be another performance after dark, 
and she expected to find her customers 
among those who stayed for that. The 
tavern-keeper began calling attention to 
his refreshments in a facetious way that 
drew an amused crowd around him. Her 


30 ZTbe Xittle flftan Hn fiDotle^ 

hopes sank, as group after group passed 
her without stopping. Two young fel- 
lows from the village who had been 
drinking pushed roughly against her 
table. 

“ Hi, Granny!” hiccoughed one of 
them. “ Purty fine doughnuts, ole girl! ” 
He gathered up a plateful, and tried to 
find his pocket with unsteady fingers. 
She stood up with a sickening feeling of 
helplessness, and looked around appeal- 
ingly. Just then a heavy hand struck the 
fellow in the mouth, and jerked him back 
by his coat-collar. The pock-marked 
Irishman, to whom the bewildered little 
William still clung, had undertaken to 
find the boy’s grandmother for him. The 
child’s artless story had aroused his 
warmest sympathies, and nothing could 
have given him greater pleasure than this 
opportunity to fight for her. 

“ Put thim back, you ugly thafe o’ the 


Zhe Xtttle flftan Ifn flPotte^ 3i 


worruld,” he roared, “ or Oi’ll throw yez 
entoirely over the sorcuss tint!” 

The man bristled up for a fight, but 
one look into the big Irishman’s glower- 
ing eyes sobered him enough to make him 
drop the cakes and slink away. 

The Irishman looked embarrassed as 
Mrs. Ratcliffe began to thank him with 
tears in her eyes, and hurried back to the 
tent. The look of distress deepened on 
her face. Everybody passed her table 
for the one made popular by the loud- 
voiced man who knew so well how to 
advertise his wares. With a stifled groan 
she looked around on the great pile of 
provisions she had brought. What quan- 
tities of good material utterly wasted! 
What would Miranda say? 

As she looked around her in dismay, 
she saw the clown coming toward her, 
still in his cap and bells. He had been 
watching the scene from a distance. Her 


32 Zb c Xtttle flftan II n flftotle^ 

distress was pitiful. To be compelled to 
wait on this jesting fool like any common 
bar-maid would fill her cup of degrada- 
tion to overflowing. What could she do 
if he accosted her familiarly as he did 
every one else? 

He leaned over and took off his gro- 
tesque cap. “ Madam,” he said, in a low, 
respectful tone, “ I have no money, but if 
you will kindly give me a cake and a mug 
of cider, you shall soon have plenty of 
customers.” 

Greatly surprised, she filled him a cup, 
wondering what he would do. There was 
a rush for that part of the grounds as the 
hero of the hour appeared. He had been 
funny enough in the ring, but now they 
found his jokes irresistible. His exag- 
gerated praises of all he ate and drank 
were laughed at, but everybody followed 
his example. More than one gawky boy 
bought something for the sake of being 


ffbe Htttle flDan In fiDotle^ ss 

made the subject of his flattering witti- 
cisms. The tavern-keeper called and 
sang in vain. As long as the clown told 
funny stories and praised Mrs. Ratcliffe’s 
gingerbread, all other allurements were 
powerless. He stayed with her until the 
last cake had been bought and the cider 
barrel was empty. 

It was nearly sundown when she started 
home. Jim came up to roll the empty 
barrel on to the sled, to place her chair 
against it, and help little William hitch 
up the oxen; but when she looked around 
to thank the little clown, he had disap- 
peared. No one could tell where he had 
gone. 

Never in her girlhood, rolling home in 
the stately family coach from some gay 
social conquest, had she felt so victorious. 
She jingled the silk reticule at her side 
with childish pleasure. She could hardly 
wait for the slow oxen to plod the two 


34 £bc Xtttle fIDan Ifn flDotleig 

long miles toward home, and when they 
stopped in front of the little cabin she was 
trembling with eagerness. Hurrying up 
the path through the gathering dusk, she 
poured her treasure out on her husband’s 
bed. 

“ Look! ” she cried, laying her face on 
the pillow and slipping an arm around 
his neck. “ We are going back to Mary- 
land, dear heart!” She nestled her 
faded cheek against his with a happy lit- 
tle sob. “ Oh, William, we need not be 
a burden any longer, for we’re going 
home to-morrow! ” 

Later, the full August moon swung up 
over the edge of the forest. It flooded 
the little clearing with its white light, 
and turned the dusty road in front of the 
cabin to a broad band of silver. A slow, 
steady tramp of many feet marching 
across a wooden bridge in the distance 


£be little flftan 11 n fiftotle^ 35 

fell on the intense stillness of the summer 
night. 

“ It’s the circus,” said Boone, raising 
his head to listen. “ I reckon they’re 
travellin’ by night on account of the heat, 
and they’ll be pushin’ on down to the 
river.” 

His wife limped to the door and sat 
down on the step to watch for its coming, 
but his mother hurried out to the fence 
and leaned across the bars, waiting. 

A strange procession of unwieldy 
monsters, never before seen in this peace- 
ful woodland, loomed up in the distance, 
huge and black, while a stranger proces- 
sion of fantastic shadows stalked grimly 
by its side. The sleepy keepers dozed in 
their saddles, filing by in ghostly silence, 
save for the clanking of trace-chains and 
the creaking of the heavy lion cages. 

At the extreme end of the long line 
came the tired little clown on the trick 


36 £be %\ttlc fIDan lin flPotleig 

mule. A sorrier-looking object could not 
be imagined, as he sat with his knees 
drawn up and his head bent dejectedly 
down. He did not notice the figure lean- 
ing eagerly over the bars, until she called 
him. Then he looked up with a start. 
The next instant he had dismounted and 
was standing bare-headed in the road be- 
fore her. The moonlight made a halo 
of her white hair, and lighted up her 
gentle, aristocratic face with something 
of its old high-born beauty. 

“ I wanted to thank you,” she said, 
holding out her slender hand to the 
painted little jester with the gracious dig- 
nity that had always been her charm. 
“You disappeared this afternoon before 
I could tell you how much your courtesy 
has done for me and mine.” 

He bowed low over the little hand. 

“ I bid you farewell, sir,” she added 
gently, “ The truest gentleman I have 



“ he bowed low over the little hand 














i § i ' 






























&be Xittle flftan If n flDotle^ 37 

met in many a day! ” It was the recog- 
nition that he had craved. She had seen 
the man through the motley. He looked 
up, his face glowing as if that womanly 
recognition had knighted him; and with 
the remembrance of that touch resting on 
him like a royal accolade, he rode on 
after the procession, into the depths of 
the moonlighted forest. 


THE END 

















Cosy <£o*»»er Series 

Each 16mo, cloth decorative, per volume . . $0.50 

By CAROLINE E. JACOBS 

BAB’S CHRISTMAS AT STANHOPE 

The story of Bab, a little girl, who is obliged to spend 
Christmas away from home with three maiden great- 
aunts. 

THE CHRISTMAS SURPRISE PARTY 

“ The book is written with brisk and deft cleverness.” 
— • New York Sun. 

A CHRISTMAS PROMISE 

A tender and appealing little story. 

By CHARLES DICKENS 

A CHRISTMAS CAROL 

No introduction is needed to Dickens’ masterpiece, 
which so wonderfully portrays the Christmas spirit. 

A CHILD’S DREAM OF A STAR 

One of those beautiful, fanciful little allegories which 
Dickens alone knew how to write. 

By OUIDA (Louise de la Ramte) 

A DOG OF FLANDERS 

A Christmas Story. 

Too well and favorably known to require description. 

THE NURNBERG STOVE 

This beautiful story has never before been published 
at a popular price. 

THE LITTLE EARL 

“ Boy and girl readers will find entertainment in the 
story, which is cleverly and skilfully written.” — Boston 
Transcript. 

B— 1 


TEE PAGE COMPANY’S 


By MISS MU LOCK 

THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many adven- 
tures by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother. 

ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook 
and gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the 
children who love and trust him. 

HIS LITTLE MOTHER 

Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant 
source of delight to them, and “ His Little Mother,” in 
this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts 
of youthful readers. 

LITTLE SUNSHINE’S HOLIDAY 

An attractive story of a summer outing. “ Little Sun- 
shine ” is another of those beautiful child-characters for 
which Miss, Mulock is so justly famous. 


By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE 

THE FARRIER’S DOG AND HIS FELLOW 

This story will appeal to all that is best in the natures 
of the many admirers of her graceful and piquant style. 

THE FORTUNES OF THE FELLOW 

Those who read and enjoyed “ The Farrier’s Dog and 
His Fellow ” will welcome the further account of the ad- 
ventures of Bay daw and the Fellow. 

THE BEST OF FRIENDS 

This story continues the experiences of the Farrier’s dog 
and his Fellow. 

DOWN IN DIXIE 

A fascinating story of a family of Alabama children 
who move to Florida and grow up in the South. 

B — 2 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By EDITH ROBINSON 

A LITTLE PURITAN’S FIRST CHRISTMAS 

A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christ- 
mas was invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the 
Puritans, aided by her brother Sam. 

A LITTLE DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY 

The author introduces this story as follows: 

“ One ride is memorable in the early history of the 
American Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul Re- 
vere. Equally deserving of commendation is another 
ride, — the ride of Anthony Severn, — which was no less 
historic in its action or memorable in its consequences.” 

A LOYAL LITTLE MAID 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary 
days, in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders 
important services to George Washington. 

A LITTLE PURITAN REBEL 

This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time 
when the gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massa- 
chusetts. 

A LITTLE PURITAN PIONEER 

The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement 
at Charlestown. 

A LITTLE PURITAN BOUND GIRL 

A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great 
interest to youthful readers. 

A LITTLE PURITAN CAVALIER 

“ The charm and historical value of the author’s stories 
of child life in Colonial days have brought them wide 
popularity .” — The Independent. 

A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT 

The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who 
endeavored to carry out the high ideals of the knights of 
olden days. 

B— 3 


THE PAGE C0MPANV8 


By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS 

THE CRUISE OF THE YACHT DIDO 

The story of two boys who turned their yacht into a 
fishing boat to earn money. 

THE YOUNG ACADIAN 

The story of a young lad of Acadia who resoued a little 
English girl from the hands of savages. 

THE LORD OF THE AIR 

The Story op the Eagle. 

THE KING OF THE MAMOZEKEL 

The Story of the Moose. 

THE WATCHERS OF THE CAMP-FIRE 

The Story of the Panther. 

THE HAUNTER OF THE PINE GLOOM 

The Story of the Lynx. 

THE RETURN TO THE TRAILS 

The Story of the Bear. 

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SYCAMORE 

The Story of the Raccoon. 

By JULIANA HORATIA EWING 

THE STORY OF A SHORT LIFE 

This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. 
It is a part of the world’s literature, and will never die. 

JACKANAPES 

A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite 
and touching story, dear alike to young and old. 

A GREAT EMERGENCY 

A bright little story of a happy, mischievous family 
of children. 

B— 4 


COSY CORNER SERIES 


By FRANCES MARGARET FOX 

THE LITTLE GIANT’S NEIGHBOURS 

A charming nature story of a “ little giant ” whose 
neighbors were the creatures of the field and garden. 

FARMER BROWN AND THE BIRDS 

A little story which teaches children that the birds are 
man’s best friends. 

BETTY OF OLD MACKINAW 

A charming story of child life. 

BROTHER BILLY 

The story of Betty’s brother, and some further adven- 
tures of Betty herself. 

MOTHER NATURE’S LITTLE ONES 

Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or 
“childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors. 

HOW CHRISTMAS CAME TO THE MUL- 
VANEYS 

A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children 
with an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. 

THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS 

Miss Fox has vividly described the happy surprises that 
made the occasion so memorable to the Mulvaneys, and 
the funny things the children did in their new environ- 
ment. 


By LILLIE FULLER MERRIAM - 

JENNY’S BIRD HOUSE 

A charmingly original story for the little folks. In the 
guise of a fairy tale it introduces many interesting facts con- 
cerning birds and their ways. 

JENNY AND TITO 

The story of how Jenny crosses the big ocean and spends 
a summer in old Provence, which is in France, you know, 
and of how she finds the little lost dog Tito, who finally be- 
comes her very own pet. 

B — 5 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


By OTHER AUTHORS 

EDITHA’S BURGLAR 

By Frances Hodgson Burnett, 

The most successful story that this popular author has 
ever written. 

THE PINEBORO QUARTETTE 

By Willis Boyd Allen. 

The story of how four persevering and ambitious young 
folks, left penniless, make their way in the world. 

THE LITTLEST ONE OF THE BROWNS 

By Sophie Swett. 

“ It will appeal to the understanding and interest of 
every child.” — Brooklyn Eagle. 

THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER: 

A Legend of Stiria. By John Ruskin. 

One of the best juveniles for children. 

A CHILD’S GARDEN OF VERSES 

By R. L. Stevenson. 

Mr. Stevenson’s little volume is too well known to 
need description. 

RAB AND HIS FRIENDS 

By Dr. John Brown. 

An old favorite that never loses its interest. 

JOE, THE CIRCUS BOY 

By Alice E. Allen. 

A tender little story about an orphan boy, and of the 
good fortune that befell him through his devotion to the 
trick dog of the circus. 

ROSEMARY 

By Alice E. Allen. 

A companion volume to “Joe, The Circus Boy.” 

A delightful story of how little twin girls, who look 
exactly alike, puzzle their schoolmates for an entire year. 

THE" MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 

By Edward Everett Hale. 

This remarkable story presents perhaps the greatest 
lesson in patriotism and love of country that was ever 
penned. 

B— 6 


Cos? Corner Irenes 

Stories by ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON 

Each 16mo, cloth decorative, per volume . . $0.60 

THE LITTLE COLONEL (Trade Mark.) 

The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine 
is a small girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on 
account of her fancied resemblance to an old-school 
Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and old family are 
famous in the region. 

“ Mrs. Johnston is a faithful interpreter of child life.” 
— Chicago Daily News. 

THE GIANT SCISSORS 

This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in 
France. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, 
and in later volumes shares with her the delightful ex- 
periences of the “ House Party ” and the “ Holidays.” 

“ Its simple language and fine sentiment will charm 
every reader.” — Pittsburg Gazette. 

TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY 

Who Were the Little Colonel’s Neighbors. 

In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an 
old friend, but with added grace and charm. She is not, 
however, the central figure of the story, that place being 
taken by the “ two little knights.” 

“ The truest portrayals of child life ever written.” — 
Chicago Record-Herald. 

MILDRED’S INHERITANCE 

A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who 
comes to America and is befriended by a sympathetic 
American family who are attracted by her beautiful 
speaking voice. 

B-7 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON ( Continued ) 

CICELY AND OTHER STORIES FOR GIRLS 

The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles 
will be glad to learn of the issue of this volume for young 
people. 

AUNT ’LIZA’S HERO AND OTHER STORIES 

A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal 
to all boys and most girls. 

BIG BROTHER 

A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Stephen, 
himself a small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of 
the simple tale. 

OLE MAMMY’S TORMENT 

“ Ole Mammy’s Torment ” has been fitly called “ a 
classic of Southern life.” It relates the haps and mis- 
haps of a small negro lad, and tells how he was led by 
love and kindness to a knowledge of the right. 

THE STORY OF DAGO 

In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, 
a pet monkey, owned jointly by two brothers. Dago 
tells his own story, and the account of his haps and mis- 
haps is both interesting and amusing. 

THE QUILT THAT JACK BUILT 

A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and how 
it changed the course of his life many years after it was 
accomplished. 

FLIP’S ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE 

A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and hia 
final triumph, well worth the reading, 

B— 8 


Selections from 
The Page Company’s 
Books for Young People 

THE BLUE BONNET SERIES 

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, 

•per volume . . $1.50 

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Caroline E. Jacobs. 

“ The book’s heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest 
kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness .” — Chicago 
Inter-Ocean. 

BLUE BONNET’S RANCH PARTY 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read. 
“A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter .” — Boston Transcript. 

BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON; Or, Boarding- 

School Days at Miss North’s. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“ It is bound to become popular because of its whole- 
someness and its many human touches .” — Boston Globe. 

BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE; Or, The 

New Home in the East. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 
“It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their 
teens .” — New York Sun. 

BLUE BONNET— DEBUTANTE 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for 
Blue Bonnet. 

A— 1 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By Harrison Adams 

Each ISmo, cloth decorative , illustrated , per 
volume $1.25 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Or, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

“ Such books as this are an admirable means of stimu- 
lating among the young Americans of to-day interest in 
the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of 
the Republic.” — Boston Globe. 

THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES; 

Or, On the Trail of the Iroquois. 

“ The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not 
only interesting but instructive as well and shows the 
sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance 
and trial produced.” — American Tourist , Chicago . 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI; 

Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness. 

“The story is told with spirit, and is full of adven- 
ture.” — New York Sun. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI; 

Or, In the Country of the Sioux. 

“ Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic 
situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a 
capital one for boys.” — Watchman Examiner, New York 
City. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOW- 
STONE; Or, Lost in the Land of Wonders. 
“There is plenty of lively adventure and action and 
the story is well told.” — Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; 

Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest. 

“ The story is full of spirited action and contains much 
valuable historical information.” — Boston Herald . 

A— 2 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE HADLEY HALL SERIES 

By Louise M. Breitenbach 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, per 
volume $ 1.50 

ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

“ The author is to be congratulated on having written 
such an appealing book for girls.” — Detroit Free Press . 

ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 

“ It cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things 
in girls’ books.” — Boston Herald . > 

ALMA’S JUNIOR YEAR 

“ The diverse characters in the boarding-school are 
strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and the 
action is never dull.” — The Boston Herald . 

ALMA’S SENIOR YEAR 

Incident abounds in all of Miss Breitenbach’s stories 
and a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter.” — Boston Transcript. 


THE GIRLS OF 
FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES 

' By Harriet Lummis Smith 
Each large 12mo , cloth decorative , illustrated , 
per volume $ 1.50 

THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE 

“ A book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems 
to understand perfectly the girl character.” — Boston 
Globe. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S VACATION 

“It is a wholesome, hearty story.” — Utica Observer . 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S SCHOOL DAYS 

The book is delightfully written, and contains lots of exciting 
incidents. 

A — 3 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

By Charles H. L. Johnston 
Each large 12mo , cloth decorative, illustrated, per 

volume $1.50 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

“ More of such books should be written, books that 
acquaint young readers with historical personages in a 
pleasant, informal way.” — New York Sun. 

“ It is a book that will stir the heart of every boy and 
will prove interesting as well to the adults.” — Lawrence 
Daily World. 

FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 

“ Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, 
and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these 
famous Indians with the whites for the possession of 
America is a worthy addition to United States History.” 
— New York Marine Journal. 

FAMOUS SCOUTS 

“ It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascina- 
tion for boys and young men, and while it entertains them 
it will also present valuable information in regard to 
those who have left their impress upon the history of the 
country.” — The New London Day. 

FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVEN- 
TURERS OF THE SEA 

“ The tales are more than merely interesting; they are 
entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force and 
bringing new zest to the never-ending interest in the 
dramas of the sea.” — The Pittsburgh Post. 

FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES 
OF THE BORDER 

“ The accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly 
readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love 
the history of actual adventure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

FAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 
OF AMERICA 

“The book is an epitome of some of the wildest and 
bravest adventures of which the world has known and of 
discoveries which have changed the face of the old world 
as well as of the new.” — Brooklyn Daily Eagle. 

A— 4 



































